


A Song of Flames

by Lomaksarne



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: A song of power solves everything, And Maglor was proficient in that, Anyway it wasn't that bad, Brother/Brother Incest, However that couldn't change the bad end, I'll love Nelyo and Kano till my dying days, M/M, Maglor seemed to be the gentlest one of Feanorian but actually the craziest, Ocean rise elf Lords fall next to Makalaure they all look normal, major character mad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:41:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27709202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lomaksarne/pseuds/Lomaksarne
Summary: "I sing the flame, I am the flame."Story of the First Age.
Relationships: Maedhros | Maitimo/Maglor | Makalaurë
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	A Song of Flames

**Author's Note:**

> I am not a native speaker and most of this article uses translator  
> 中文版本叫烈焰之歌

1

I was born as a song.

Before the light of The Two Trees hit my pupils, I could feel the world pulsing against my eardrums; before the first cry, I could hear the music flowing through me and the space around me, the rush of blood as the main theme, the constriction of my pupils as the ornamentation, and a few strong hearts beating the drums to a thrilling beat.

Then I opened my mouth and became one with Arda's music.

I didn't know how long that period lasted, because there was neither "I" nor "time" for the "I" of that time; all those concepts dissolved in the current of music. They were meaningless in the face of the grandeur of the whole world. "I" played the sky, and the colour of the canopy determines the key of the movement; the clouds were rests, each bird a different chromatic note, the wind a reminder of a growing or waning strength; "I" could not see others, could not understand their voices, because for "me" those are all beating notes; the earth beneath our feet and the mountains in the distance created chords that are steady or deft, and in the deepest part of the earth flows a breathing background sound, unceasing, magnificent, yet incomprehensible.

\--But did it really matter whether it is understood or not? In music, "I" was the world itself; completely opened, no barriers, no loneliness.

Of all the things that sang, the one I loved most is fire. It was an invisible form, splashed with passion; its leaps are endless and irregular, but it contained the craziest and most touching melody; it devoured other notes every moment, but it also created a new movement in the midst of destruction. At times, I was willing to stop all other sounds and just listen to the fire's solo. My brother told me later that I - referring, of course, to the "Makalaure" as an individual - used to sit alone before the fireplace and stared at the flame. A whole day.

Then, one day, when "Makalaure" was lost in his usual foggy meditation in front of the fire, a voice entered "my" world.

"Don't touch the fire, or you'll get hurt."

At that moment, "I" was shattered into pieces by the first understandable words in my life, and the connection between each note was broken for a moment and began to integrate again. From a certain point, the world I had been living in began to collapse, and "reality" swarmed in through the cracks. I - "Makalaure" - saw first my hand reaching for the flame, and then the hand that gently grasped my arm; I turned my face in muddle, a flaming red hair came into view, the red flowing like a song with the beating light; I blinked, realizing that I was looking into iron-gray eyes, the eyes of the Other, in which I saw my own face for the first time.

For me, that was the beginning of time.

2

The construction of Tirion had an inner rhythm, and I especially enjoyed hanging out with Maitimo in Tirion as a young elf.

Of course, my "handsome" brother, as he was called, was always surrounded by girls wherever he went, and I was always left out in the cold. Occasionally, a few curious glances were directed at me, but they were immediately averted with awe and fear. I knew what the people of Tirion called me in private - "the jolly and eccentric musician", "the arrogant genius", and even the folklore that Feanaro's second son was not Elda but a fragment of The Great Music, so he didn't understand the language and had to communicate with his family on the harp ......

Perhaps my exuded loss was too obvious, on the evening return journey, my brother spurred his horse to lean in and whispered, "I'm sorry, Makalaure; I didn't mean to leave you out."

I gazed at his curly red hair - his glowing hair quivering slightly with the bumps in the evening light - as beautiful as the most vigorous fire, literally in which one could hear a brand new symphony. I reached up and fished out a strand of his red hair, shook my head with a smile, "Maitimo, you don't need to apologize, that's not why I'm upset."

"Then what is it about?"

"They want to make you theirs. But I won't allow it, Maitimo, you're mine."

My brother laughed, "Don't say that, Makalaure! even if I marry one of them, I won't become 'her person'. Every Elda is free, you and I both."

"No," I said obstinately, "at least I am yours, and my life as a 'Makalaure' was given by you. You are to me the beginning of existence, the fuel for the fire of the soul, the Muse ...... You know, the musical I wrote for the New Year's Eve celebration is almost complete, and I intend to write your name on the title page of the score. I will always be-"

Maitimo grabbed my shoulders sharply and looked right into my eyes. The seriousness in his gaze made me tremble.

"Kanafinwe," he called my father's name gravely, "my family, my dear brother-even if you have these identities, always remember that you should be an independent Elda. Your musical attainments surpass anyone else of the world, the fire of your soul burns brightly without depending on others, and no one can deny the unique contribution you have made. Perhaps you will go longer and further than all of us ...... You are not attached to anyone, nor should you allow yourself to be."

We looked at each other for a long time. Although the connection between me and the world of music had long since been lost as a child, I could still feel the sound burning in my fingers as I stroke his hair, the music running all the way to my heart. Suddenly I was in a rage of helplessness: there were no barriers in that world of notes, but in the face of reality, even if Elda could speak directly to with mind, the walls of understanding between individuals would remain unbreakable. ......

"But you're not 'anyone'." I said.

Maitimo laughed; I suddenly realized that the words just seemed to be sung by me again. My elder brother leaned over and hugged me, whispering in my ear, "Grow up fast, Makalaure."

I buried my face in his hair. It's so nice that my brother's fire never burned me.

3

I stood at the stern of the ship, staring at the flames that were fading into the fog in the distance. There were footsteps behind me, and I didn't need to look with my eyes to know that it was my brother walking up.

"Watching the fire again, Makalaure?" the voice of Maitimo was hoarse, and he seemed to have not drunk any water since his quarrel with father, "What is the flame singing?"

I didn't look back. "An elegy."

Silence lay between us; Maitimo came to my side and joined me in eyeing the blood red of the sky.

After a moment, he spoke up and asked me, "Do you remember what the first words you heard me say?"

Of course I remember. "Don't touch the fire." I said without hesitation, then realized that was my brother's admonition to me; he had advised me not to with his eyes as I lifted the torch, but I ended up making the same choice as my father.

"You're the oldest in our family besides me, Makalaure, and I don't want you to set an incorrect example for your younger brothers."

He turned his face to force me to look at him, and I took a moment to think about how to answer. Finally I said, "I told you that when I was a child I could hear breathing under the ground - of course 'breathing' is just a metaphor - do you remember?"

"So?" He stared intently into my eyes.

"I've heard it again recently. The first time was when we took our vows, the second time was at Araman, and the last time was when father ordered the burning of the ship ...... Although the content of that sound is still very obscure and unlike any music I have ever heard, I can gradually understand it." I took a deep breath, "Maitimo, that's The Great Music...I'm not trying to justify the mistake I made, but simply to say that ...... at that moment, in a moment with 'Destiny' In the midst of the connection, we are powerless as individuals."

The distant fire was finally engulfed in darkness, the stern was unlit, and Maitimo's face was buried in the shadows, but I could still see his iron-gray eyes glittering. His expression was complex, a mixture of anger, pride and resignation, and I noticed him clench his fists.

"Fate?" He whispered, "That's what we're fighting against...... we're composing a song that will be grander than The Great Music, and we're going to break that verdict with our own hands and find joy and freedom ahead. Makalaure, the next time you hear that song, laugh at it! When we regain what we've lost, it will be you who will have to sing the triumphal song."

4

"We've lost everything ......"

Someone behind me shuddered. Immediately I heard my fourth brother’s yelling, and now the speech of the proudest one of us became hoarse: "Stand up, Pityafinwe!"

The dry wind from the north blew my face like a blade and played a dissonant tune in my ears. The music was so loud that I could hardly think, and my mind just repeated over and over again the fact that I was being forced to face.

We lost our father and brother.

The melody was roaring like a storm, sweeping through my bones, and I was losing control of my music. I had a headache so bad I could barely hear Tyelkormo's anxious voice beside me: "Makalaure, what do we do now?!"

Yes, I'm their leader now and I can't let myself be drowned by the melody ...... a blurry red cloud in front of my eyes, but I know I can't grasp anything even if I reach out my hand. My fire, my Muse, my Maitimo is not here, what music is there to speak of? Until Maitimo returns, I must light the way for my people with my own flame.

I don't know how long it took me to realize that there was silence all around me. For the first time in my life, I let my music stop. It never played again until that night more than ten Sun years later.

I looked around; my brothers were silently watching me. The eight-pointed star flag hunts overhead, the gray earth smelled of smoke beneath my feet, and the mountains where the enemy lies dormant at the end of my gaze.

I straightened my back and took a deep breath.

"Return to camp," I said, "fix the army and take the long view."

5

"Makalaure......Makalaure......."

A voice from nowhere tore at the corner of my consciousness, as if pulling me out of the dull darkness. Where is this place? I looked around, the treacherous glittering black pillars, the blood-soaked floor, and the disgusting ghostly fires on all sides ...... I tried to get up, but my limbs were securely bound by chains, and the pain kept coming from my wrists and ankles ...... Someone was approaching, I could see his flaming eyes, all five eyes were looking at me ...... No, those three weren't eyes, they were ......

Giant black hands grabbed my hair, pulling and tugging, I caught a glimpse of the dried rusty color with the corner of my eye, it was originally fiery red ...... someone was screaming, the sound rushed out of my throat but didn't belong to me, where is this ...... where is this?

"Makalaure, wake up!"

I grabbed the hand from above with all my might, and the distant voice pulled me up, and I looked down and saw the "me" still in place ...... the twisted, bony, skinned and cracked body, and the black hand holding the man's chin up, so I confronted those hollow iron-gray eyes ......

"Kanafinwe!!!"

I opened my eyes abruptly, and they were a blood red.

The pain of the hallucination still lingered, and I gasped violently, realizing that I was still in my chair in the council chamber. Carnistir was crouched beside me, grasping my shoulder, and was shouting my name over and over again. The fire in the fireplace on the four walls of the room had grown to a terrifying size, flames leaping out of the hearth to nearly a man's height, coating the entire chamber in a frightening blood red.

Before I could make sense of the chaos, Carnistir's voice rang in my ears again, both frightened and angry: "Kanafinwe, do something! It's going to draw the others in! Put out the fire!"

...... Did I make this fire? I was stunned for a moment, then shook my head. Controlling the natural elements was something only a musician, Makalaure, could do. the regent of Noldor, Kanafinwe, could not sing.

We watched motionless as the raging fire burned out of fuel amidst the sound of the flames devouring the firewood, then slowly dimmed. Carnistir's fingers hurt my shoulders, but I didn't make a sound, but used the pain to force myself awake. I remembered that this was one of the most unpopulated halls of the Mithrim Fortress, and that I had brought Carnistir here to discuss the movements of my other brothers - Tyelkormo's power had risen recently, and in addition to my fifth brother, the twins had come to his side, and the only ones who still supported me were the Carnistir - but not because Carnistir liked me so much, he just hated Tyelkormo, that's all. A few minutes ago Carnistir was talking about he was afraid that Tyelkormo would soon take on the Crown, and suddenly the hallucination hit me.

...... No, it wasn't a hallucination. I remembered the scenes I'd seen in my trance and felt only fear and pain creeping up my spine.

"...... Are you saying that Morgoth forcibly enhanced the connection between you and Maitimo? Made you share his senses?" After listening to my narrative, Carnistir rose abruptly, his eyes sharp as knives beneath a tightly locked brow, "Wait, judging by your recent state ...... this isn't the first time he's done this, is it?"

I knew I couldn't hide it any longer and nodded with a grin, "He's been trying it for years, it used to affect my dreams at best ...... just now was the most successful he's ever had."

"And you couldn't fight it, could you?" Carnistir got cranky, "Because you 'lost' your music? Lost your power? But you know exactly why, Kanafinwe." he suddenly changed his tune, "After Maitimo was captured, the barriers of your mind suddenly hardened to the point where even I couldn't penetrate them, and then you went from being that crazy singer to this rational, cold, and frightening regent. ...... What have you done to yourself? What are you hiding? What are you so afraid of?" He walked around the table impatiently as he asked a series of questions.

I pursed my lips and was about to open my mouth, but he gasped and continued, almost yelling at me, "Your power is still there - you just almost burned down this room! You didn't 'lose' the music at all, Makalaure, you threw it away. I don't care if you have something to hide. I don't care at all! But you must find your strength, our people will not trust a distraught, frail Regent stirred by the great enemy! Your refusal to rescue Maitimo and your backing down on Nolofinwe has already made many people hate you! If this goes on, they'll eventually fall to Tyelkormo - and you know what that means. Father wouldn't want to see-"

The call suddenly hit us from the air and I saw Carnistir stopped in his tracks with a jolt like a pin prick. After a little while, he moved with some difficulty to turn to me and blushed, "Sorry, I was being harsh - Kano, are you okay ......?"

I squeezed out a smile at his clumsy concern, "Don't worry about me, I'll take your offer seriously ...... You might as well go back to your room, there are still a few reports to finish, right?"

He didn't seem too reassured, looking me up and down for some time before turning around and going out.

The sound of my fourth brother's footsteps faded away, and I slowly unclenched my fist which clenched stiffly.

Those questions from Carnistir turned out like sharp edges to the rotten flesh in my throat, many thoughts buried by trivial chores surfaced, and in the darkness, I stared at everything I had always avoided for the past few years, only to feel shocked.

Ghostly, I opened my mouth slightly, controlling the flow of air rushing out of my throat.

One note.

I sang softly and softly, but my own voice sounded like a thousand fireworks bursting before my eyes and ears. Swaying flames rose up in my vision, they twisted into long, fiery red hair in overlapping phrases ...... my brother stood under The Two Trees and smiled at me ......

The music hit my eardrums and the tremors went all the way to my gut. I clenched my wrist to keep from screaming, and saw the red color coming at the end of my eyes, and Maitimo's mutilated body floating in the sea of blood ...... I had nightmares of Morgoth tearing off his limbs, and countless other mutilated Maitimo were standing in front of me, the pupils of their eyes converge into an iron-gray dead sea ...... organ set off thunder, and Angband's prisoner was questioning: Kanafinwe, where are you? ...... Where are you?

The taste of rust spread in my mouth and guilt turned into a python that wrapped itself around my chest, crushing me and sinking me into the red ...... I used up what was left of my sanity before the music overwhelmed me and grabbed the edge of the table, pushed off the seat and fell to the floor. The music faded, and in the pain around my body I thought - this is everything I was afraid of, everything that was hidden behind that calm and rational "Kanafinwe" ...... and Everything about Maitimo.

I loved him. I couldn't save him.

I huddled by the fireplace, vaguely seeing another fire sprouting from the embers of the fireplace.

My song is the song of the flames ......

It couldn't go on like this.

I braced my upper body and flicked the loose curls behind my ears. Carnistir was right - I had to get my strength back. Makalaure the singer was the only one who can fight the spirit of the dark enemy, the only one who could sway the music that could go off the rails at any moment, and Kanafinwe the regent was just a mere elf.

I was a child born in the midst of music, and once my own music got out of control, I slipped back into that world of infinity. Previously, it was Maitimo - who I first saw - grabbed my hand and left me in reality. After losing him, I had to find a new anchor point.

What else would be sufficient as an anchor? The only possible answer was myself.

I gazed out at the red leaping from the hearth, and a thought that could be called crazy came to my mind.

6

Of all the things that sang, the one I loved most is fire. It was an invisible form, splashed with passion; its leaps are endless and irregular, but it contained the craziest and most touching melody; it devoured other notes every moment, but it also created a new movement in the midst of destruction…

I had been reborn in the flames, when Maitimo said to me - don't touch the fire.

"Please give me a second chance," I whispered devoutly to the crimson, as if in ecstasy, "and let me ...... be 'me'. "

I held out my hand.

7

The ultimate pleasure belonged in the land of the Blessed, and the ultimate pain belonged in the prison of steel. But what swept me away was a unique emotion in this wild land - a mixture of pleasure and regret, indulgence and restraint, exaltation and degradation...

Fire blossomed in my fingers and I raised my head, reversing the scream that choked in my throat into the first song that pops into my head - a favorite ditty from my time in Tirion. The song and the hallucination rushed out of my chest together, while I thought back to my state as a singer, trying to grasp the song with my consciousness and compress-compress-.

Something clutched my wrist and I dropped my eyes to see Maitimo, dressed in white and beautiful as a god, the streets of Tirion spreading out at his feet in all directions, the starlight streaming around him.

"Come with me, brother!" He laughed wantonly, "The dinner is about to begin!"

My hand twitched with pain, but my bones were blossoming with pleasure, and wild but true emotions anchored me in the present. I meditated and headr my own voice echoing in my consciousness like a storm: **I'm not there.** Those joys are a thing of the past, I had crossed the sea through sorrow, and **I'm here.**

I sang of the virgin lands of Middle Earth, the mountains of my love and tears, and caught a glimpse of the flames rising before me, bright as the sun and moon. I tried again to compress my voice in my palm, but the song broke through my grip and I began to descend, falling into the body of a prisoner.

 **I'm not there!** I didn't care if I would be heard, yelling out. I'll come for you, but not here and now. There is still a long road ahead of me, and **I am here.**

The chains cracked and the flames poured down. In an instant, the song and the pain were all gone, and I was suspended in an endless void, smaller than the tiniest speck of dust, lonelier than the most marginal life in Arda. At the same time I felt a tremor as if from outside of time, and in the moment of realizing what it was, I felt only stiffness - it was The Great Music, Arda's The Great Music was flowing through my bones. Immediately, the night of Losgar flashed through my mind. I suddenly found my voice.

**Are you going to sway my will again? Are you underestimating a Feanorian’s pride?**

The movement didn't answer my question; it just murmured, as always, without melody or comprehension. This time, however, I heard a voice that seemed to ring directly in my chest.

**Who are you?**

That's The Great Music's challenge to me? I almost burst out laughing. I am Kanafinwe Makalaure, controller of my song; no other title than that.

**Who are you?**

It was the same sound again, and suddenly I felt like I was in a fire, with pain racing to tear at every nerve. I did not remember whether I screamed or not, nor did I remember exactly what I saw. But I know I failed, and fate clamped down on my throat again, and I remember making the answer that fate commanded, but it was already drowned in the flames.

8

When I opened my eyes, I was still lying on the floor by the fireplace, my upper body resting on Carnistir's chest. There was only a little fire left in the fireplace next to me.

"Brother ......" Carnistir's voice shook like he'd seen a ghost, "What the hell is going on? I heard ......"

"I'm fine." I shook my head, "No one else is coming, right?"

"-you're still worried about that?!" He almost screamed, "You ......"

He slammed his mouth shut. I felt his consciousness brush against the surface of my mind, then popped open as if he'd been burned.

"...... your song ......" he said as if he couldn't breathe.

I bowed my head and slowly spread my hands, which I always clutched squarely before. No bruises on my fingers. Nothing. But I could still see the burn of the flame that was completing its final healing; it wasn't on my fingertips, but on my palms.

9

"I've talked to Carnistir ......"

"Shh." I bowed my head and wiped the cold sweat off Maitimo's forehead again, voice soft as coaxing a cat, "Stop talking and get some rest."

The healers said the condition of his wounds was almost stable, but tougher days followed. He was tormented moment by moment by physical pain and trauma when he was awake, and struggled with endless nightmares when he was asleep. I knew what he would suffer in those dreams. Fortunately, my song eased his pain, and I begged Findekano to send him back to the south shore of Mithrim, to the Feanorian fortress, where I sang by his side every night until dawn. Fatigue prevented me from fulfilling all of my duties as Regent any longer, and I finally took Carnistir's advice and evened out most of the work to him and Tyelkormo.

Tyelkormo had a wry smile on his face as he got the keys to the archives.

"You should have done this a long time ago, brother." He leaned into my ear and whispered, "The little brothers will do the work, so you can concentrate on suffering!"

He was right, this was suffering. Witnessing Maitimo's pain was torture for me. What made it worse was that I couldn't share it with him.

I gently stroked Maitimo's short-cut forehead hair and tried to persuade him to close his eyes, but he stubbornly turned his head to me.

"Carnistir told me about ...... what he - did to you." We both knew who that "he" was.

I was suddenly overcome by a sense of foreboding. "Maitimo-"

His obscure grey eyes looked at me and said dreamily, "He said that every time I called your name, he could take the opportunity ...... I tried not to think about you, but I couldn't ...... I'm sorry. "

He was actually apologizing to me. I felt all the blood rushing to my head with a crash, and I wanted to rip my hair out, to take my hands and cut open my chest, to get on my knees and beg him for forgiveness, to scream until the entire Mithrim fortress turned to dust - but I said nothing. Music pushed to its limits rolled through my chest and stomach, and I gripped his bony left hand, leaned down, and kissed him on the lips.

The tongues of fire licked all the way from where our lips and teeth met to all over his body, and I felt Maitimo shuddered all over, then dropped his guard and accepted me. I kissed his pale lips, my fingers spasming and burying themselves into red hair that was as dry as embers, and a voice in my head screamed: **this is wrong, don't touch the fire, don't touch the fire!** And I put that warning out of my mind. His fire was going out, and this time it was my turn to light him up.

Maitimo's left arm suddenly straightened, his bowed back buried in the bedding, and I heard him groan in pain. In an almost frantic impulse, I didn't hesitate to release my hand from stroking his hair, probing into the layers of fabric and then down the line of his body. There was barely a mark on him, as Angband would "dutifully" heal him, but I knew what pain lay beneath, I felt it with him ...... I touched his skin, my fingertips shaking with the pain of the fire, but unparalleled pleasure crowded the senses at the same time, just as the day I put my hands into the fire ...... I continued to kiss him until he raised his neck and the pain in his breathing was replaced by lust, until he began to chase my palm ......

"Kano-" he shuddered and whispered between lips and teeth parting, his warm exhale brushing my cheek. Words were magic, and in that moment we opened to each other as brothers of the same origin, and his pleasure flowed into my veins-it was enough. Feanorian didn't pray to the gods, so I whispered to myself, **O flame, let me ease his pain, I don't care to carry all the curses of the world, if I can get back that eldest brother whose soul burns hotter than the sun.**

I moved away before we both suffocated. He looked up at me with a soft gasp, his cheeks hot from the unleashed flush. His eyes snapped open as I raised my hand to begin unbuttoning my own robe. Of course, he always knew what his brother wanted to do.

"Kano, don't." His voice was laced with fear, "You'll hurt."

"Shh." I leaned over again and pressed my index finger to his lips, "Don't say anything, don't think about anything, just feel 'us' ......Nelyo, I can't carry the pain for you, but maybe, I can help you forget it. "

10

What is a Feanorian?

We are scorching souls, who, knowing that we will be burned to a crisp, plunge into the flames. We hold the bloodied sword in one hand, embrace our brothers in the other, and then laugh indiscriminately towards the fall.

11

"The Great Music?"

Maitimo put down his pen and rises, the cloak on his shoulders slipping off as he did so. I took a step forward to catch it, buttoning it on his chest for him.

"Well, it's in my head again ...... I can't understand it, but it still makes me a little uneasy," I said, "I'm wondering if it's hinting at something or revealing future dangers to me. The territories we have just established are still fragile, and if the great enemy chooses to attack at this time, the consequences are unpredictable."

My brother tilted his head and surveyed me for a moment before finally smiling and taking my hand, "Let's go out and get some fresh air."

I followed him to the terrace. It was a clear winter's day, the north of Himring was all snowy and white, the Iron Mountain ambling over the horizon like a sleeping behemoth. The wind cut across my face, and a normal elf would quickly freeze to death if stood outside in just my robe and cloak, but the spirits of the flames never feared the cold. The cold only helped to keep us awake. We stood shoulder to shoulder by the railing, Maitimo's voice ringing in our ears, "Kano, are you sure that's The Great Music that sings of Arda's fate?"

"That's really how I understood it. That feeling ...... can't be described in words."

"Then open your mind and let me hear it."

After a few seconds, my brother frowned, "I didn't hear anything."

"So it does target me alone ......" I stared at the walls of Himring not far away, feeling some sort of low, harsh rhythm wrapping around my limbs.

"Kano," Maitimo said gruffly, snapping me out of my increasingly obscure thoughts, "Kano, look up."

I looked in the direction of his finger and saw the white sky.

"I know what you mean," I murmured, "Noldor has a wide open road ahead, and we do not turn to fate - we mock it." In the midst of the pale heavens my brother's red hair burned, while I turned to the crimson that was brighter than the sun: "But Maitimo, we have to face up to the power of Fate! Think of Araman! Lf that voice really means something, then I must understand it ......"

Thoughts suddenly wandered, the fire in the Council Chamber shifted before my eyes, and my voice rose, "-and to understand myself."

"Do you have any idea what you can do?"

"...... There is." The leaping of the fire grew more treacherous and my voice lowered, "There is a way."

 **You're crazy.** As the door closed behind me, I heard someone say in my ear. I didn't look back, just laughed to myself, "If this were an opera, this madness would make it more interesting, wouldn't it, Makalaure? Audiences love lunatics." I threw the windows behind me one by one, and outside the buildings, the pale sun was watching silently.

That night, I screened all the attendants, closed the door tightly, drew the curtains as far as they would go, and blocked the entire space with my power. Then, as I had done decades before, I stood before the fireplace again.

It was an exhausting struggle, and I felt like I had been struggling through years of endless agony, but when I opened my eyes, the hour hand of the wall clock had beaten just one tick. I knelt beside the flames in a cold sweat, staring at my charred hands, my voice hoarse like a crow as I sang songs of healing. But I didn't care about the pain, a mountainous symphony roared through my head, all singing the same words - the only words I'd ever spent my willpower on in the void, stripped and understood from all the musical remnants I'd ever heard.

As the wound healed, I continued to sing with a dry voice, and the song soon turned into a broken, maniacal laugh, as I clawed at the carpet, laughing in the darkness until I burst into tears. I got up and walked from one end of the room to the other, grabbing everything I came across, mashing and repairing it with my song. When the song reached its climax, I swung the curtains open with both hands and looked out at the moon in the sky.

 **It's a great stage, isn't it?** I mused in the full silver glow of the room, **the audiences love lunatics.**

By the time the first rays of Arien's light entered the room through the gap in the curtains, I had made my decision.

12

"You wanted to see me, brother?"

Maitimo rose abruptly from behind the long table, his tall frame shading the thin winter sunlight in front of me. His tone was calm, yet deep with irrefutable authority, "Explain what you did last night."

"...... brother?" I was slightly shocked, my hand under the cloak clenching quietly out of his line of sight. The burns there had long since been healed by me, but the burning smell of the skin still seemed to linger. -What did Maitimo know? I thought I'd done a watertight job of keeping my voice and mind closed.

"Your guards say you branched them all out and locked yourself in the room. And ...... there are some ties you can't unilaterally cut, Makalaure." he spread his left hand out to me, it was unscathed, but I knew in an instant that he must have sensed what I was doing.

I looked him straight in his iron-gray eyes. "I tried to understand the voices I heard. That method had worked before ...... that's when I took back control of the music."

"For something like that, you burned yourself with fire?" Maitimo growled low, the angry edge in his eyes making me cringe. He reached out, grabbed my right wrist and pulls it in front of me, seeing my healed ashen palm and finally there was some color on his face.

"I'm not afraid of fire," I said, "And I don't care about pain. But I have to go figure something out, and it's about our future."

We looked at each other for a moment, and I must have had the same insistent look on my face as he did. Finally he sighed and pulled me into his arms, kissing my forehead, "Kano, you're so ungrateful."

 **You should reflect on yourself first.** I didn't say the words out loud, but buried my face in his red hair and bit his earlobe in protest. He asked in my ear.

"So, did you understand anything about what you said about The Great Music?"

The song that had tormented me last night was suddenly loud, and the zenith with the eight-pointed star painted on it came crashing down on me, and I was cold. Maitimo's chest was so close to mine that I could hear his burning blood flowing and his long copper hair burning in front of me. **My brother, he was the flame itself. And I would plunge righteously into the flames, even though I knew I would be burned to a crisp.**

"No." I stood on my tiptoes to kiss his lashes, "I understood nothing."

13

What is the story of what I'm singing, what you're listening to?

I have no intention of repeating the historian's narrative, which to you is already a cliché; nor do I intend to praise or justify the Feanorian, whose merits are to be judged by posterity, and whose relics have passed away after many thousands of years. I want to tell stories beyond that, I want to sing songs beyond Noldolante, I want to bring you to touch the flame that is still alive to this day, the flame of my songs.

After that, I kept on composing, and wasted no time in documenting every detail of Beleriand with words and music, like a second-born child who is running out of time. I have sung across 400 years of peace and decades of war, across countless mistakes and tears, until the end of our story, which you can read about in the history books. I was silent about everything I knew that night, even about my beloved brother, my adopted children; I just kept on singing.

Now this story is coming to an end, but it's not the end for me.......

14

I hugged Maitimo tightly, tightly, as if afraid that if I let go, he would fade away into dust. I wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with the back of my stiff hand, my voice hoarse and indecipherable.

"Drop it, Maitimo, drop it ......"

He trembled in my arms, as if he had reverted to the Maitimo who had just been brought back by Findekano, and I grabbed his hand and tried to break his fingers with pain, but he shrank back, and the Silmaril bloomed in his hand with a sickening colored glow. I couldn't remember when my father's creation had become so disgusting and it was taking away his only remaining left hand ......

"Makalaure," he whispered, "look at me."

I stalled in my movements and lifted my eyes. But he did not meet my gaze, his iron-gray eyes dilated and dazed into the void-my brother, who had gazed at Silmaril so long when we fled the barracks that the light of that beautiful jewel had blinded him ......

"Tell me," his voice twisted with pain, "how long have you known?"

"Know what?"

"The end." He answered simply.

For several seconds, I couldn't get a word out. He eventually found out. Maitimo always found out what his brother had gone to great lengths to hide. I was going to keep that heavy secret hidden until the end of everything. Finally I opened my mouth, all those words that had been building up in my chest for centuries rushed to my throat, and I flew and poured out to him in rapid, incessant bursts ...... say it, say it, it's going to be too late ......

"That winter, I said I tried to understand The Great Music but failed, you remember? I lied to you, Maitimo. by then, The Great Music had revealed to me ......

"There is room for reversal of the so-called 'verdict', Maitimo, and the adjudged can still escape it, change it, and even reverse it with their own hands ...... But what we heard in Araman was not The verdict of Valar, the messenger came from the future, and what he described on his lips was history to him. That's what The Great Music told me, and I knew from that day forward that we would never be able to fulfill our vows, that we would be stripped, defeated and destroyed, and that our struggle would be meaningless from start to finish ......

"I saw a flaming road spread out before me, I heard the footsteps of doom following me, and I remembered what you said to me, 'Don't touch the fire.' ...... But fuck the pain! Fuck bad luck! Fuck the everlasting darkness! If Valar told me all this so that I - this flaming soul - would tremble at the power of fate and succumb to doomed defeat, then they would never get their way! That day I decided to leap into the flames with my brethren, and I will sing at the stake ......

"I took up the pen - recording and preserving is itself resistance in the face of irreversible destruction ...... I tried to minimize casualties in the war, I retreated with my subjects before the inevitable defeat came, for it was up to them to carry the story I wrote into the future ......

"At the same time, the more I write, the more I understand - I see another self looking down on Beleriand from the top of the mountains, watching the sorrows and joys of every soul, and the more I write, the more the music comes together in a grand symphony that travels over the land like a dragon. ...... So I understood that in God's eyes we are all stage players, and no matter how much we resist, we are just running along on a given track in a grand drama of immense proportions. Those guys sitting in Valinor, that eye in the vault of heaven, are savoring our tragedy and appreciating our pain from a higher dimension. Ha-ha, Eru doesn't love us at all, all his designs are to make this stage play more gripping and beautiful ......" I spoke blasphemous words, spread my arms and laughed freely.

"But the more I understand, the more I am alienated, and I am often alarmed that I am viewing the world through those cold, uncaring eyes, and can't help but wonder what I can do to make our story more aesthetically pleasing ...... I'm falling towards The Great Music, Maitimo. I have known for a long time that Silmaril is no longer with us, but I still submitted to your will, for 'Maedhros and Maglor stealing the Silmarilli' will be one of the best sequences of the play, and I must finish it, and the audience will weep for our pain and give us endless applause! ...... "I couldn't tell if I was crying or laughing, "You see, Maitimo, I'm turning into a monster and I'm strapping myself to the stake ...... "

The next second I was pulled into a warm embrace, my brother groped for me and held me, rubbing my back with his broken wrist ...... This is more than all the songs and words in the world, his warmth almost melted my bones.

"It's all over, let's leave," I murmured, "You and I have dutifully played our part, now let's go where the spotlight doesn't shine ...... I'll be your eyes and you'll leave me in this world, throw away Silmaril, throw away names and family crests, forget the past and responsibilities, we're free, Maitimo, we're free ......"

 **Lies!** That voice from on high says, **it’s impossible for you to bind him here, you know full well that his play hasn't ended……**

 **Get out!!!** I growled silently, the earth shuddered beneath my feet, and I glimpsed flames roaring out of the cracks in the earth all around me, the black sky burning ...... I reached up and held Maitimo's face and kissed his chapped lips ......

We made love recklessly in the wilderness, and I let him take me roughly, as if that would confirm each other's existence and keep him by my side forever. After it was all over I held him in my arms and fell asleep, Silmaril flashing a short distance away ......

"Fate won't interfere with our path anymore, will it, Kano?" is what I heard him ask me before I fell into the realm of Irmo.

"Hmm." I rubbed the tip of his nose in confusion, "We'll be free and happy together ......"

Exhausted and unconscious, I drifted in a dreamless sleep for a long time. When I opened my eyes, there was nothing around me.

I understood everything immediately.

I grabbed Silmaril and slowly, slowly stood up.

The vision jumped with joyful bright sunshine, and I finally I finally started to shed tears. But I didn't feel much sadness, the tears washed away the dust from my face, but I realized I was laughing, bent over laughing, and a voice in my head said, **Stupid! To this day, you still try to fool fate?**

"I expected it, and I don't regret it," I said with a smile, "at least he was free when it came to choosing how he would curtain his own."

I stretched my arms out to embrace the sky and began to sing. The earth crumbled and the sea rushed in from across the horizon, I let myself be swallowed by the cold azure color and let go, the Silmaril flickered for one last moment and was immediately carried by the current to infinite depths. In the shifting light I saw a parade of fish, a large, compassionate eye met and disappeared, and then I was lifted out of the sea by the mountainous ridges, and the sperm whale at my feet sang a whale song to be with me ...... I sank the entire remnant of Beleriand to the bottom of the sea, leaving the crumbling mountains and broken earth underwater reorganize, rebuild the halls of the fortresses, replace the flowers and trees with algae, recreate the lights of a thousand homes with coral ...... At the same time I heard a song, my own song, the song of the elves, the song of the dwarves, the song of the humans, the song of all things, all beings chorused around me, woven into a symphony of unprecedented, magnificent, flaming Symphony ...... At last I raised my right hand, and in stormy harmony, the Himring Fortress split the sea and rose. Stepping on the spine of a whale, I walked up to the island that was once a hill, watching the shrubs and vines burrowing through the earth, twisting the marble columns and statues in a moment. I walked past halls in ruins, seagulls circling overhead, anonymous wildflowers in full bloom, life was singing, the world was singing.

I knelt on one knee before the throne of the former Himring lord.

"You see, I've written the perfect finale to our story, and they'll never forget you again." I kiss the cold surface of the chair, "It will be up to me to remember us, to sing our exploits to the end of the world, and then to meet you again in the ultimate final."

I already know that I will go on and on, having nothing, and yet everything. I left the stage and will henceforth be a spectator, appreciating everything and remembering everything. It's the world's choice, and mine too.

 **Who are you?** Cross-examination from The Great Music hundreds of years ago floated to my ears from the depths of my memory.

I am Kanafinwe Makalaure, singer of the flames. I am in control of my music, remembering and singing the stories of all that I love, and as long as I am singing, they are not forgotten. **I am the flame, I am the memory, I am part of the world, I am the world.**

O audience beyond that time, are you still listening? And now this story is coming to an end, but that is not the end of you and me. I ask you to remember our story, and your own, until the end of this world. Please join me in this song of flames.

END


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